Hostile Spike (Battlegroup Z Book 2)

Hostile Spike
Battlegroup Z Book Two


Daniel Gibbs


Contents
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Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
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Acknowledgments


Hostile Spike by Daniel Gibbs
Copyright © 2020-2021 by Daniel Gibbs
Visit Daniel Gibb’s website at
www.danielgibbsauthor.net
Cover by Jeff Brown Graphics—www.jeffbrowngraphics.com
Additional Illustrations by Joel Steudler—www.joelsteudler.com
This book is a work of fiction, the characters, incidents and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. For permissions please contact info@eotp.net.


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Also Available from Daniel Gibbs
Battlegroup Z
Book 1 - Weapons Free
Book 2 - Hostile Spike
Book 3 - Sol Strike
Echoes of War
Book 1 - Fight the Good Fight
Book 2 - Strong and Courageous
Book 3 - So Fight I
Book 4 - Gates of Hell
Book 5 - Keep the Faith
Book 6 - Run the Gauntlet
Book 7 - Finish the Fight
Breach of Faith
(With Gary T. Stevens)
Book 1 - Breach of Peace
Book 2 - Breach of Faith
Book 3 - Breach of Duty
Book 4 - Breach of Trust


1
Lawrence City—Canaan
Terran Coalition
25 October 2433
Almost four weeks after his last combat, First Lieutenant Justin Spencer walked into a small bar on Canaan. The capital of the Terran Coalition, Canaan was the site of the largest battle since the end of the Saurian Wars. Six weeks ago, Justin had been serving his last two-week annual tour of duty as a reservist. But suddenly he and every other member of the Coalition Defense Force, active duty or reserves, were locked in a struggle against a numerically superior force, the League of Sol.
Justin had spent the last week on shore leave, while the hangar bay was exposed to vacuum for refitting and striping the deck. He ran a hand through his shortly cropped brown hair and wished they’d ended up in drydock at New Washington. At least I could’ve seen my family. He sorely missed his wife, Michelle, and his daughter, Margaret. But for the next few hours, at least, Justin resolved to push the war out of his mind and focus on the moment. If nothing else, he would allow himself some joy with his friends.
As he pushed the door shut, his second-in-command and wingman, Second Lieutenant Dvora Feldstein, motioned him to a table in the back. She was a short woman, perfectly suited as a pilot, and one of the best in the Red Tails squadron.
“Hey,” Justin said as he plopped his nearly two-meter-tall frame into one of the four chairs at the high-top table. “Took me a while to find this place. Lots of pilots, eh?”
“What makes you say that?” Feldstein replied with a smirk.
“Oh, the general ‘We’re better than you’ attitude everyone in here is giving off, and it’s called The Ready Room, for crying out loud.”
Feldstein snickered. “Valid point.” Her lips curled into a smile. “Feels weird not to have my uniform on.”
“Oh, I think we’re supposed to even on liberty, but I got tired of the attention.”
“A flyboy tired of attention? Be still my beating heart,” she teased.
Justin shrugged. “I mean, I can’t even pay for a meal. Total strangers come up to me constantly, wanting to shake my hand and thanking me for my service.”
“And?”
“Isn’t it weird? It feels weird to me.”
“They know we saved their lives,” Feldstein replied. “And almost everyone appreciates it and the sacrifices made.”
Justin couldn’t readily explain why the attention bothered him. He furrowed his brow. “Six weeks ago, no one cared or gave you a second look if you had the same uniform on.”
“Six weeks ago, a massive empire of communists from Earth wasn’t trying to take over our planets and convert us all to nice little socialists.” Feldstein made a face. “Seriously, Spencer, find something else to grouch about. My bank account looks a little better thanks to the free meals, and who doesn’t want to be looked up to?”
“I guess you’re right.”
“Of course I am. Get used to it.”
Justin laughed loudly and turned to his right just in time to see Second Lieutenant Elisabete Mateus walk through the same door he’d entered. He waved her over.
She flew over to the table, dodging a waiter with a large tray of beers. “Good evening, my fellow warriors. May I?” she asked, pointing at an empty chair.
“Like you have to ask,” Justin replied with a snort.
“Oh, this girl always likes to see if she’s wanted,” Mateus said. Her first language was Portuguese, and she had a slight trace of an accent. “Have you ordered yet?”
“Four beers,” Feldstein replied. “But they haven’t arrived yet.”
Mateus grinned and adjusted her top. “I should’ve ordered for you.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because I don’t look like I came straight from a church service like you two.”
Justin had to admit she had a point. Mateus was a beautiful woman and seemed to enjoy wearing clothes that accentuated that fact. Every time they’d gone out as a group, though, the lot of them ended up not paying because someone was hitting on her. “So, another night with no bar tab?” Nothing wrong with that. I like the free drinks too.
That got him a glowering stare from